


Savage Sunday

by DPPatricks



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Gen, outsider's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:01:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24843493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DPPatricks/pseuds/DPPatricks
Summary: A brief missing scene from ‘Savage Sunday.’
Relationships: Ken Hutchinson/David Starsky
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	Savage Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the additional June prompt on the S&H Fans&Fanfiction FaceBook page.

Aw, man, why did I ever let myself get mixed up with those two dudes? Just because Sally Ann, my ditzy cousin, was married to Sloan for two months, didn’t mean I should have anything to do with them. But, hell, forty bucks was forty bucks and I figured paintin’ their old car wouldn’t hurt nothin’. Sure, I knew it was stolen, so what? I turned the white to green and sold ‘em the old license plates. No skin off my nose, right? 

Then the two cops showed up. 

At first, they were flounderin’, they didn’t have shit. Before long, though, the tall blond stooped down, touched one of the still-wet spots on the floor, straightened up and called his partner over. They didn’t say a word, man, Curly just seemed to know exactly what his buddy had figured out. They looked at each other, stared at the floor, then each other again. 

Dammit it, I could hear ’em thinkin’ and, sure enough, I was invited to join ‘em. Invited, hell, I was summoned. An’ the sucker did it without raisin’ his voice, too. I don’t usually admire cops but they were good! And that’s when I started feelin’ like I could be in some serious trouble. 

“You wanna tell us somethin’ about that white Chevy that was standin’ right here - that’s not white any more?”

Well, I didn’t want to spill ‘cause I knew Sloan’d make me pay for it. But the tall one started talkin’ about dynamite in the trunk that was s’posed to explode at five o’clock and I was suddenly havin’ second thoughts. 

“You’re gonna be up for murder,” Curly said.

Momma didn’t raise no dummy but she didn’t spend all those years workin’ her fingers to the bone just so I could end up in the slammer, either. So I told ‘em about the Ohio plates and the color that the Chevy was now. What could I do? I had to look out for me, didn’t I? 

“They held a gun on me,” I hollered as they walked out. “Said they’d kill me!” 

I don’t know if the cops heard me but I think I’ll get outta town for a while. Maybe Sally Ann wants to give Vegas a try.


End file.
